Differences
by TheLuckySevens
Summary: A rival game between Noxus and Demacia becomes leads to much more than political gain. Instead, an unlikely relationship is planted, growing and blooming beautifully. Draven/Sona
1. Prologue & Important stuff

_Prologue_

*Work require basic knowledge of the video game _League Of Legends_ by Riot Games to completely understand

* I DO NOT OWN _League Of Legends_ OR Riot Games in any way

* Rated T for slightly suggestive themes, is subject to change in the future if necessary

* Enjoy!


	2. Preparation

_Chapter 1 : Preparation_

It was a bright, hot day at Summoner's Rift. The sun shone brightly on its nature preserves, making the leaves appear a glossy green and the rocks metallic. A light

breeze circulated the area, though barely enough to combat the searing heat. Nonetheless, matches went on behalf of the League of Legends. Many matches went on

today like most, but one in particular was in the spotlight as a result of a rivalry from ancient origin : Noxus versus Demacia. The match was partly due to the growing

political tension between the two powers, and the League had allowed for a match today. Most champions would be under pressure at this point, partly representing

their own nation and would aim to be modest, humble throughout the match to put on a good (though temporary) image. However, some champions preferred to forge

the fields of justice into a stage, a showing for them and only them, demonstrating only the best (of only their ability). None was more infamous than doing so than

Draven - the Glorious Executioner.

* * *

One might be surprised to find that Draven did this consistently everyday and every match with little to no hesitation and showing no signs of stopping his tradition.

Thus, today was no different. Draven as well as his noxian allies like his brother and rival Darius, would be on the rift in an hour. Darius would face off against the Might

of Demacia - Garen. Draven, however, did not know who he would be facing in battle. Currently, he was int he noxian dorms getting ready for his "performance." "Looks

like Draven's getting some action today. Ha!", Draven admired himself in the mirror while narrating. The Glorious Executioner was wearing his usual attire - a loose,

green fur coat and a golden headband with his signature haircut. Exiting the washrooms, Draven went to his room, briefly acknowledging the presence of a very

aggravated and waiting brother. "It hurts doesn't it, Darius? Awaiting the results of such a glorious makeover?", Draven laughed. He promptly ran up to his own room

before his much more capable brother would pursue him. Draven hung his two iconic noxian axes in his small room onto the wooden walls along with his other

accessories - unique axes that the noxian entertainer had mastered and wielded during his career. They glinted in the summer sun and had dangerous, rough metal

edges. Draven began to sharpen them, admiring the craftsmanship of the blades. "Thirty minutes until the match, Draven.", Darius called upstairs in his usual harsh

tone. In half an hour, all champions participating in the match would be teleported to the rift, prepared or not. Draven had been long ready, but felt the sharpening of

the axes would be nice. The noxian also equipped guards to his tannned arms, lined with rough spikes, matching his axes. Draven, finished with his sharpening, attached

the twin spinning axes onto back and left the dorm.

* * *

He smiled confidently, whistling along the way, kicking a rock as he walked to his destination. He, along with all of the other champions were required to meet and wait

at the pre-match platforms, to be teleported into the rift. Draven saw others already waiting, namely his allies Katarina and the noxian general, Swain. Draven

still respected the noxian general although technically kicked out from the noxian military, so he briefly nodded in Swain's direction. "Hello, Draven.", Swain returned the

greeting. Katarina did not offer an exchange words, and the Glorious Executioner was aware of the female's complete disinterest and annoyance of him. "Not a fan,

redhead?", Draven attempted to lighten her up. Katarina acted as if he did not speak at all, so Draven decided to drop it. On the other platform, Draven spotted Garen

and his demacian allies. His brother entered soon as well, and they exchanged small talk in wait of the match to begin. Every champion perked up at the bit of the

booming announcer. "Battle begins in sixty seconds." Another announcement resonated through the battle platforms."Battle begins in five... four ... three ... two ... one

...!" A blinding, blue light covered the champions and they were teleported onto the fields of justice. "Welcome to Summoner's Rift!"


	3. Battle & Beginnings

_Chapter 2 : Battle & Beginnings  
_

Draven smiled, not feeling an ounce of pressure. Instead, his face only showed confidence and excitement. As expected, the heat was enormous and it was also

becoming slightly humid. The sun shone brightly in the afternoon, a bright object standing out from the orange-red sky. Draven walked to the mid lane as his noxian

side planned for him, though it was still unknown who he would be facing. His shoes made a _crunch_ sound with the pebbles on the rift, and he stood at his tower.

Walking a bit further confidently with a sly grin on his face he caught sight of who he would be facing. Sona, the maven of the strings was his opponent. Sona wore her

usual blue dress with white silky straps floating along it. "Looks like Draaaven has found his newest victim! Aha!", Draven shouted while unsheathing both axes from his

back and spinning them on top of his head, the axes glinting in the sun. Draven's voice rang in the field, and he could practically hear Darius' annoyed groan which only

made his smile larger. The maven of the strings chuckled in response and gave him an amused look. Draven faltered slightly in response, the slight gesture from Sona a

surprise to him. The Glorious Executioner, though regarded himself as "the most exotic man on the face of this Earth, baby!", his interactions with women were

uneventful at best. Most females, in the League at least, either ignored or outright insulted him as obnoxious or other colorful vocabulary. Such as when Draven

attempted to whoo the "cute sniper chick" - Caitlyn - by "officially" appointing himself as co-detective and promptly being kicked out by the security. Draven smiled and

it was nice seeing even an amused expression once in a while. While in his thoughts, minions had already spawned and were walking past him. Draven shook off his

thoughts and followed them.

* * *

Despite years of experience, Draven still found throwing axes at minions mundane and not "Draven" enough. Thus, he began to spin one of his axes and made a move

onto Sona. The blue-haired mistress, however, was quick to respond and sent out a magical bolt of musical energy, blasting Draven. The executioner, however,

shrugged off the brief pain and perfectly threw his spinning axe, slashing the maven and returning to him flawlessly. "It's go time! YEAH!", Draven shouted loudly as he

spun his second axe and used Blood Rush. Axe after axe hit the maven, and Draven only became more maniacal but precise in his attacks and Sona was forced to flee.

"The show doesn't end 'till Draven says it does baby!", Draven slammed both his axes on the ground, before the blades rapidly traveled across the rift's stone floors,

putting Sona into respawn. The noxian smiled, almost hearing the watching audience's cheers. Laughing loudly, Draven began to push his rest of the match was a blur,

as he was dominating lane and his brother Darius and the noxian general Swain were also successful. The Demacian side fought valiantly and put in even more effort

when it was clear they were the losing side, but it only delayed the inevitable. "VICTORY!", the announcement boomed and Draven pumped both hands in the air in

excitement.

* * *

The noxians reported to the after-match room in celebration while the Demacians grimly congratulated them, wanting to be sportsman-like. Draven usually did not stay

in the crudely designed room, with wooden boards barely supporting entire sturcture, due to the general lack of interest to the often tense acknowledgements to the

opposing side. Draven was just about to leave when a silky hand grabbed his arm and gently pulled him back. The noxian blinked in surprise : the hand felt feminine,

and he turned around to see none other than his previous opponent right next to him. Draven's eyes wandered off onto Sona's body unexpectedly, as they had never

examined Sona up close in the match. Sona had a stunning figure, and silky smoth skin that accompanied her beautiful form. The Glorious Executioner began to eye

herexposed, rather large cleavage before quickly looking away. A strange feeling bubbled up inside him as Sona motioned for him to sit beside him. Accepting the offer,

Draven felt different, not his usualtotal-confidence attitude but instead somewhat hesitant and flustered : he was nervous. It was a feeling Draven had very little

experience with due to his extreme ego and seemingly unlimited confidence. Sona made him feel different, and slightly confused him. The maven gave him a strange

look, and Draven snapped out of his dazed trance. "Ah! Sorry, Draven was a lil' occupied. So, you wanted to talk or.. uh .. something?", Draven was feeling nervous

again, and it made him falter with his wording. Sona gave no response, only chuckling again like before and offering her hand, nodding. Draven understood she was

congratulating him, but briefly wondered why she would not speak. Shrugging, Draven smiled and said "Thanks, pretty lady." Silence followed, and Draven cleared his

throat, attempting to liven the situation. "Your matches going good, Sona?" She gave a small nod in response. _"_ _Yours?"_ The noxian sat up, surprised from the sudden

booming voice that intruded his thoughts. "Hey! Who's that mind-wizard messing with Draven's head? Oh, I BET it was you Darius, you've been clinking around with

those gizmos-", Draven stood up abruptly but was interrupted by another thought (and his brother telling him to shut up). " _It's me, Sona."_ "...So you're a mind

wizard?", Draven asked, sitll amazed. _"Telepathy, it allows for you and I to communicate. I am mute."_ , Sona told him, the slightest trace of sadness in her exotic blue

eyes. The noxian sat down on the wooden benches, staring briefly at the bare walls of the after-match room before responding. "That's pretty cool. So other people can't

hear our conversations, right?", Draven laughed. The maven showed a look of surprise so briefly, that nobody would have noticed it unless they were already looking at

her. Sona was indeed surprised, as her status as a mute person usually turned away many potential friends and romantic interests. Flustering rapidly and reddening

quickly showing on her face, the maven formulated a quick excuse to collect her thoughts alone. Sona nodded in response to Draven's question before standing

up abruptly. _"I must go, I have a match in a few hours. Nice to meet you, Draven."_ , Sona signaled her leaving. The noxian executioner felt slight disappointment,

though he did not know why, and waved goodbye. "Draven'll see you around, Sona!", he waved before making his own back to the noxian dorms.

* * *

Draven frowned slightly, as the events that had just happened were very peculiar. The feelings, conversation, and liveliness of the conversation were all new and

exciting, he realized, to him. The noxian turned the brass doorknob to his dorm, his hands briefly slipping on the glossy texture. Lying down on his bed, Draven realized

he wanted more to do with the maven. More interaction, conversation, ANYTHING to do with the beautiful blue-haired champion. Beautiful? The noxian did not usually

pursue romantic interests or invested in any woman for more than a couple of weeks, so what was going on? Draven shook his head, confused. Draven thought back to

her smooth skin and petite frame before quickly shaking his head. "Draven just needs some sleep, that's all. Heh.", he reassured himself. The Glorious Executioner

flopped onto his springy bed, his back relaxing on the soft feel of the bed, and drifted off to sleep, briefly thinking again about the mistress. The maven's polite attitude

and relaxing voice entered his mind again, and emphasized Draven's very real lack of romantic experiences. However, if Draven had to choose something that popped

into his head the most, it would be a simple and short description.

* * *

Sona was different.


End file.
